


she gave me a good character (but said I could not swim)

by brokendevil



Series: prompts, one-shots and other drabbles [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Divorce AU, F/F, a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9547178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokendevil/pseuds/brokendevil
Summary: It doesn't matter how carefully you pull two halves apart, there will always be something left behind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Absolute nonsense because I lost 12,528 words of Sunday's while working in Spain and got way too stressed. However I have rewritten 8,000 for Sundays so it will be up soon; there's a few missing scenes that I really wanted in there but hopefully it won't take too much longer.
> 
> ;;
> 
> Badly written, badly edited, I can only apologise.
> 
> Yell at me on Tumblr if you notice all of my mistakes (brokendevilwrites)

  **i**

"I can't believe you didn't know you weren't divorced," Finn smirks, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that distracts her just enough that she doesn't reach out and punch him. She does look in time though to see him pop an olive into his mouth with a smug grin and she rolls her eyes. "You're literally married Griffin. To the hottest girl you've ever dated." 

Clarke glares but it doesn't seem to do anything as Finn chuckles to himself before picking up his wrap, nimble fingers making it a little neater as he was always prone to do and he shrugs at her innocently. "Don't say that about her," she defends weakly before she drops her own fork to her plate, one hand moving to run through her hair. "And to be fair I didn't even realise we were still married. I don't even think Lexa remembers."

"But you are," he waves the wrap as he chews and Clarke grimaces just enough that he smiles apologetically. There's an almost invisible trace of tomato in his teeth, just noticeable against the pristine white, and Clarke is grumpy enough at him that she doesn't say anything. "Are you going to contact her or just leave it to your lawyer?" 

"Wells didn't even think to tell me that I wasn't divorced. I'm not sure I trust him enough to call her and let me know what she said," she chuckles and then rolls her eyes. She can't be dealing with all of this right now. Between her business getting more and more successful and moving into her own apartment Clarke knows that she is only just keeping afloat her responsibilities in Arkadia. She can't be running around the city of Polis to beg her ex for a divorce that neither of them were aware they still needed. And that was assuming Lexa was still in Polis, or wanted to speak to her.  

(She hasn't forgotten  _Lexa._ She'll never forget Lexa. She can't really forget the night that her, Lexa, Finn, Octavia and Bellamy all decided to think up the scariest dares they could think of. She definitely remembers her and Lexa being so in love that it didn't matter if they got married because they were so besotted, so obsessed, so sure they'd last forever. And the look on Finn's face when they followed through the next day and got married was perfect.  _They were perfect._ )

(She surely hasn't forgotten the breakdown from then on. The months of separation that college and part-time jobs brought. She hasn't forgotten the sting of betrayal when Lexa came home from Polis University one summer and they were forced to admit that they were over, that they were different people on different paths and that the love they shared probably wasn't enough anymore. She hasn't, even for a moment, forgotten the heartbreak or the way Lexa's lip had shaken so violently that all Clarke had wanted to do was soothe it with her own lips.) 

"So what are you going to do?"

Clarke looks down, shrugs once. "Wells says that he's contacted her lawyer so I guess it's just a waiting game," she says and picks up her drink instead, suddenly her lunch far less appealing than it had been earlier in the day. "I'm sure she'll send them back soon, right?" 

"Sure," Finn says with his mouth full, one shoulder lifting in a halfhearted shrug that Clarke feels offended by. "So what are you going to take from her in the divorce? It's not like you need money."

"Don't you need to get back to the precinct?"

\--

At nineteen years old Clarke remembers thinking she knew everything. She remembers how fresh and young everything felt; remembers the soft laughter from her girlfriend and the nights with her friends and how the stress with her college work was calmed by comforting kisses on rare visits. She wonders what it'd be like to go back and perhaps change a few things -- she knows what she wouldn't do. But she thinks of the chances she could have taken and wonders if she would have done them was she given a second chance; wonders if she'd be brave this time. 

At twenty-five Clarke knows she isn't as brave as she pretends to be.

She has her own interior design place and it's successful,  _she's_ successful. She's designed plans for the wives of husbands you see in the movies and it works, it really does, and she has Octavia by her side who held her together when Lexa left years earlier. And Octavia is  _good,_ she does the marketing and she's taught herself three languages so she could talk to other clients and keep them at ease and she's a level of determined that Clarke has never known.

"So did Finn laugh at you?" Octavia asks when Clarke walks into the office later that day and the blonde takes all of three seconds to give her the longest glare she can muster up. "Did you figure out what you're going to do?"

Clarke shakes her head and drops down into the plush leather chair that hugs her body perfectly, easily ignoring the five emails flashing at her from the laptop screen and she turns her attentions to the kitchen plans she has laid out on the table. "Have you spoken to Lincoln about how long his team are going to take rewiring the electrics Mrs. Evans' kitchen?"

"He said it shouldn't take him and Nyko more than two days," Octavia shrugs and takes the hint to drop the topic of Clarke's stress. For a moment. "And I've spoken to Niylah about a building permit to extend the property out onto the backyard. She'll email us by Tuesday at the latest." 

This Clarke can do, she thinks. She can focus on her work. It's what got her through the first year of a break up and the second year in which her father died. Focusing on everything else was how she worked and when pushed she knew she could manipulate a situation around so that she could, once more, focus on the wrong thing. It kept her going and she was really, really, hoping it was going to work this time too. 

"Okay that's good," Clarke nods and looks up from the plans to her emails. The kitchen really was lovely; all wood and copper and tile. It wasn't her style but, then again, she wasn't paid to agree with everything her clients wanted. "And he'll do the outside building too."

Octavia chuckles to herself, her fingers not stopping on the keyboard as they blaze across it. "Lincoln will do as he's told," she grins across at Clarke. "But yeah, you know he'd do anything for us." 

It's true and Clarke knows it. Her eyes scan over her emails and she replies to the ones that she determines to be the most important. Her personal life was kind of a joke but this was what she was good at and she let herself get absorbed into her work for a few hours. She makes sure to focus on everything but Lexa and getting a divorce before she's even thirty.

(A divorce from a woman she hasn't even seen in person for three years.)

God, her mom was right. She really was directionless in her personal life. 

"Griffin," gets her attention and she looks up from her work to acknowledge Octavia sitting at the desk across from her. "I'm finished for the day. You want to come for a few drinks?"

Clarke shakes her head, eyes dull from work and emotions she wasn't willing to face. "I should go home. Mrs. Evans wants an early viewing of what we'll be doing tomorrow and I need at least fourteen hours sleep to be able to deal with her," she jokes but it's awkward and it falls flat and Octavia looks at her with far too much sympathy. "Don't."

"She's probably going to be just as confused with all of this as you are," Octavia reassures as she shrugs into her leather jacket, her hands coming to pull her hair from the collar and all Clarke can do is nod. "I don't know how long this stuff usually takes but it'll be over soon. I promise." 

It was over a long time ago, Clarke thinks.

And that's the worst part. 

\--

"Please come, baby," Abby's voice rings in her ears and Clarke looks at her laptop, tapping away as she confirms an appointment with another client and she sighs into the mouthpiece. She pauses at her typing and simply looks at the cursor for a few seconds while she contemplates on how to let her mom down easily. "I know you don't believe me but I really would like you there."

"What about Marcus?"

It comes out harsher than she was anticipating but she doesn't take it back. She still has the image in her head of the two adults sitting her down to explain that they'd fallen in love. Like Jake wasn't less than a year in the ground. "Clarke that isn't fair." 

"Well it isn't a rare thing for us to disagree about something I've said," she fires back and the line goes silent for long enough for her to actually feel bad for a few seconds. "Listen, mom, I know this is super important to you and everything but I'm completely overwhelmed with work and even if I take an evening off I'm going to be overloaded with work I've not done. I'm so proud of you for this award but take Marcus, really. I'm sure he'd love it." 

"Yes," she sounds so sad and resigned that Clarke bites her lip. "I guess it was a little presumptuous to assume you would have a weekend free. You work so hard, baby."

Clarke stops working completely and leans back in her chair, her fingers coming to her forehead to press against the bridge of her nose. Her mom may have hurt her but she hates that tone in her voice and she take in a deep breath, eyes closing. "I have a meeting with Niylah next week in TonDC. Maybe we can meet for lunch, or something, the next day? It's only a couple hour train ride to Polis from there and I know it's not the same as being there when you receive that medical thing but we can catch up. It's been a while." 

"Oh, yes," Abby perks up and Clarke feels a weight lift from her. "Just us girls, okay?"

**ii**

Niylah Chapman is flirting with her and she knows it. 

They do this. Clarke arrives at her office in the small city of TonDC, or Niylah will come to Arkadia, and they'll flirt as they iron out details of Clarke's latest project. Niylah, for the most part, makes sure that everything Clarke designs is legal and fits all guidelines. They both know that Clarke knows she can have these things checked in a thousand other places, by a thousand other people closer to Arkadia, but Clarke likes the easy atmosphere Niylah brings and Niylah likes the dresses that Clarke wears. 

They work. It works. 

"So how long are you going to be staying in TonDC for this time?" The blonde bring a glass of wine to her lips and she's entirely unsubtle in the way her eyes linger on the long lines in Clarke's neck. She doesn't hide how they dip down to where the necklace she is wearing rests against the swell of her breasts and Clarke likes her honesty. "Or is this just another overnight business trip?" 

There's emphasis in the way she says it that makes Clarke laugh and she shakes her head at the woman, entirely amused. "I'm here tonight but I have to leave early in the morning --"

"You always leave early in the morning," Niylah interrupts and smirks at Clarke in that distracting way that she does. 

" -- to go to Polis," Clarke finishes her sentence with only a slight glare at the blonde and she ignores the way that the woman puts her glass down delicately, her hands folding in front of her. "I'm meeting my mom for lunch before I go back to Arkadia."

"Clarke Griffin doing something  _other_ than working. I never thought I'd see the day."

"It one afternoon," Clarke huffs but she feels a blush rise on her neck. Niylah only ever sees her under the pretense of work anyway, they've never met up as 'just friends', but it still stings that people don't often think of her as spontaneous. As fun loving. She's totally fun. "And Octavia is working with Lincoln and his crew on a kitchen in that crazy rich suburb. She has it handled." 

"I bet your bank account loves you," Niylah giggles slightly but Clarke doesn't feel any less tense about her reputation. "Do you want to get out of here, Clarke?" 

She nods determined to be spontaneous. 

\--

When Clarke wakes the next morning Niylah, for once, is already showered and dressed and it causes Clarke to throw a distressed look at the clock. 

"Don't worry, you're good," Niylah laughs as she runs her eyeliner over her waterline and she blinks a few times before directing her gaze at the other woman in the room. "I just have an early meeting today.. I was going to wake you before I left." 

Clarke lets herself look at the construction lawyer for a long few seconds and let's herself believe that this could be her life. Niylah is educated and beautiful and funny; she is all of the things Clarke likes. But something has never managed to settle between them. Whatever this was was simply stress relief or because they just  _could_ and nothing ever seems to take off whether they want it to or not. 

"Thanks," she murmurs anyway and she reaches for her clothes. They both get ready in silence, Niylah getting the coffee and bagels ready as Clarke showers and they eat quickly under their own personally set deadlines. She never eats breakfast with whomever she's slept with but Niylah is kind this morning and she can't help but wonder why, wonder if it's because the other woman knows what is in Polis and fate doesn't care for how big a city really is. 

"Everything is signed off for the Evans property," Niylah says as she picks up a large black umbrella and Clarke smiles at her, genuinely, because that's one less thing to worry about. "But I'll have to get back to you about the Campbell's. There is some extensive mold in the dining and living rooms that I doubt even Lincoln will want to go near." 

Clarke smirks at that because Lincoln is brave but he's not stupid. "Okay," she says easily and just like that she's back to work mode, back to what she knows best. "My train is soon. I should probably go." 

"Sure," Niylah replies and there is nothing keeping them in conversation nor needing to be around each other anymore. There is a look in her eyes again though and Clarke pretends to check her pockets to distract herself away from it. 

It's easy, Clarke thinks as she begins to walk away, but it's not worth it. 

\--

Lunch with her mom isn't as painful as what she let herself believe it would be. There's a short moment when Octavia rings Clarke asking for advice about the design that has Abby huffing slightly and Clarke holds back mentioning how often Abby would run out on family meals because of an emergency at the hospital. It's not the same, of course, but it's her career just as medicine was her mom's and she's not going to let the click of a tongue make her feel bad about it. 

"How are you finding living alone?" Abby asks gently, soft enough for Clarke to note the motherly tone to her voice and she sets her glass of water down. 

"It's nice. Strange," she admits and a small smile graces her lips. She misses her old roommate, of course she does, but she likes the freedom of being alone. She likes the space, even if sometimes her shoes echo in the lonely apartment and the sight of only one toothbrush is kind of depressing. "It's weird because me and Octavia got into such a rhythm at college and those years while we were building ourselves up and now we're living separately it's kind of hard to fall out of it. I keep coming home and wondering why the dishes haven't been done since that was always her job, you know?"

Abby grins at that. "Yes, I know the feeling," she murmurs, clearly liking it to having to live alone once Jake passed and Clarke was away with Octavia. The younger woman refuses to pick up that topic of conversation though and Abby relents, knowing not to push it. "You'll get used to it though. And besides, work keeps you very busy."

"Yeah," Clarke nods, resisting the urge to check her phone on the table. "I'm working on two different designs at the moment but it's a rush. So worth it."

"Even if you have to deal with all those rich women who think they know more than you?"

Clarke is taken aback slightly by the teasing lilt to her mothers voice, so unused to laughing with her, but there is a spark in her eyes and Clarke is reluctant to admit that she's missed it. She knows it's because of Marcus Kane but that's an issue for tomorrow and she focuses on the now, nodding along to her moms words with a wry smile. 

"Their husbands pockets are deep enough for their words to wash over me," she giggles, well aware of how blase she sounds about it. But she doesn't care, she never really has as long as she is successful in her endeavours, and she remembers that was what Lexa loved about her the most. "But I like it. And so does Octavia. Negotiating with people is completely up her street. She knows exactly how to get her own way." 

Abby sips at her tonic water and smiles as she listens, head tilting in all of the right places, and Clarke knows that as much as she loves her mom -- they're better off apart. Living under her moms shadow, pretending to be interested in science when she really loved art, was too much. They're better apart, better living their own lives and meeting naturally. She learnt that you don't necessarily have to like someone to love them.

"And Lexa, have you heard from her?" 

Her mom doesn't give away that she knows it's a sore subject and instead wipes her damp hands from the glass on her napkin. Clarke shrugs, not knowing what to say and not willing to admit she's married to Lexa and, currently, in the middle of a divorce from her. While her mom is completely aware of the breakup Clarke knows that she still has no idea just how much it had torn Clarke apart, the blonde refusing adamantly to tell her, and she knows her mom is under the illusion that the ex-couple sometimes occasionally speak.

She doesn't know where that idea has even come from. 

"I haven't spoken to her in a long time," she admits and she's rather proud of herself for keeping her voice calm and easy. "In fact, I don't know what she's even doing anymore." 

Abby looks shocked and she tilts her head again in question but she doesn't say anything else on the matter. 

\--

It happens like all cliches happen: in a coffee shop.

She's well versed in the art of reading romantic fiction and everyone knows it but even this is taking things just a little too far. She's busy balancing her phone and her coat while trying to swipe her card to pay for a coffee and a muffin when it happens. A hand takes the bulky coat out of her hands and as Clarke bristles, turns her body ready to scream at the very specific fashion thief, she sees her.

Lexa.

Of course it's Lexa.

Because, in a city that has a populous of over two million damn people, who else would it be? 

"Can I hold this for you?" 

And really, what else can she do but nod?

\--

"So we're still married. How about that?"

Lexa is stirring her coffee nonchalantly when she says it. Clarke simply keeps her hands warm around her own cup; she feels too sick to really take a sip and instead finds comfort in the heat. She's not even sure how she's supposed to respond to something like that and she lets out a noise that she hopes sounds amused but is far too cognizant that it sounds more like a pained whimper. 

"Yeah," she nods and looks down at her fingers. She's aware immediately that those fingers were inside another woman not eighteen hours ago and she's never been more nervous about her sex life than she is in that moment. Her ex is sat in front of her; the ex she declared to be her soulmate at parties and posted daily on social media how she was the love of her life. The ex, who, if they had been a little braver would still be in her life now. "I only found out myself last week. It was buried beneath some paperwork and since, well, we never legally changed either of our names I didn't particularly notice. It was Wells who brought it up." 

Lexa nods and Clarke remembers quickly that Lexa doesn't know Wells, or Lincoln, or Nyko, or--thankfully--Niylah. She's built a life away from the brunette and the ease at which they used to talk suddenly becomes stilted and awkward. 

"Indra, my lawyer, has the divorce papers," Lexa nods and then bites at her lip, almost hesitantly. "She's on vacation at the moment but she made me a priority and is having them shipped as soon as possible. She mentioned they could take up to two weeks though. Is that okay?" 

Internally Clarke swoons at how determined Lexa is to make this as easy as possible for the both of them and she nods shyly. What are you even supposed to say to that?  _No, I want my damn divorce by dinner tonight._ No. "Of course. I mean, we've been married for, like, four years without knowing about it. What's another two weeks of waiting, right?"

"Well. We at least knew about it for a few weeks," Lexa corrects with the same glint in her eye that used to drive Clarke to distraction at school. "I vaguely remember us 'celebrating' our marriage for a very long weekend."

There's a look in Lexa's eyes that manages to remind Clarke, vividly, of just how that weekend had been spent. And the following weekend too. But then essays had been due and Lexa needed to work extra to help pay rent when her roommate lost her job. And then there was something else and then another thing and then suddenly they were nothing like they used to be and the marriage was forgotten.

Mostly to protect her own heart. 

Clarke opens her mouth to reply when they are interrupted by a tiny woman; all white teeth and trimmed nails and beautiful skin. She has her hair pulled back and Clarke would be struck speechless by her if it wasn't for the girl placing her hand on Lexa's shoulder and gaining her attention. "You better be kidding me, Woods. You said you were coming in here to get us a pick me up. That was nearly fifteen minutes ago." 

"Sorry Raven," Lexa smiles, really smiles with her teeth and that little nose crinkle that makes Clarke feel weak, and turns her attention back to the blonde. "I ran into an old friend."

"Hi," the girl waves at her without really paying her much attention. Clarke is sure she'd feel offended if she wasn't still shaking over the fact  _Lexa_ was drinking a coffee right in front of her and there was another woman touching her shoulder like she's been doing it for years. "Whatever, babe. I'm going to get a coffee, you can buy your own for making me wait, and then head back to the hospital. You should probably move it though before they notice you're gone." 

Lexa rolls her eyes but nods anyway and lets the girl leave before taking in a deep breath. "She's probably right. My lunch hour is already creeping dangerously towards the hour mark," she smiles nicely and Clarke is still kind of reeling from everything that she can't fully admire the sight. "I have something I can't miss but I can give you my contact details if you need. Just in case we need to keep in touch when the papers arrive."

"Oh, uh," Clarke flushes and bites back the urge to reply that Lexa's number is still in her phone. Only the contact name has changed to  _"Don't call. Don't answer.'_  "Mine is still the same."

She doesn't know why she says it, especially when Lexa raises an eyebrow at her. It's awkward when she murmurs, "Oh. I...Well I deleted your number after the --"

Clarke waves her off, suddenly pained in her chest. "Of course, sure," she rambles and quickly jots her number down onto a napkin as Lexa does the same. "Of course you did. I don't know what I was thinking." 

"Clarke..."

The sound of her name is too much and she shakes her head quickly, maybe a few times too many, and smiles thinly. 

"I have a train to catch," she croaks out and the shocked look on Lexa's face kind of overwhelms her a little. She isn't a nun, she hasn't remained chaste by any means, but there is a beautiful woman calling Lexa 'babe' and Lexa works at a hospital, like she'd always dreamed, and she deleted Clarke's number when they broke each others hearts. It's too much. "I'll call you if anything changes, okay?"

\--

It's only when she's on the train back to Arkadia does she realise she never said the girls name out-loud and she wonders, hopes really, if the whole thing was a dream.

**iii**

It comes to her in small increments; the way sunlight spreads out at the first touch of dawn, how a trickle of water turns into a stream. When she's at work she can forget about everything but then, suddenly while in the middle of eating a bagel in Arkadia Park, she'll be hit with the knowledge that she once--a long time ago--she had someone she could call  _hers._ Someone who liked being called hers. She used to have someone who she could depend on at all hours and while she knows,  _she really knows,_ Octavia would drop anyone or anything to be by her side it's just not the same. Octavia has Lincoln and, sure, Clarke knows that Lincoln loves her too but she's not so self-obsessed that she doesn't know that couples need time alone; even if they say otherwise. 

She hasn't been single since the breakup but she hasn't been serious about anyone either. And she's not lingering in the past either. She's over Lexa, really, but she still has little moments where she lets herself wonder. Wonders if Lexa would have been a good wife--she knows the answer to that is yes--or if she could have made Lexa happy. She thinks about who would have carried their first child, their second? They spoke about kids, she remembers fondly, and she knows Lexa would have wanted a little parade of blonde and brunette babies if she could have. Both only children Lexa and Clarke wanted their children to have everything they never had and Clarke smiles at the could have been. 

Research has told her that it's probably going to take another three or four months before the divorce is final and she thinks about how much she'll speak to Lexa in that time. Possibly more than she has in the last three years, she realises. 

That thought makes her blood run cold and her skin tingle in anticipation.

Lexa has always caused a variation of feelings inside of her.

\--

For the next week Clarke swamps herself in her work. She's a tyrant on site; Lincoln looks at her with a mix of pride and fear as she orders his team around to make the place perfect. Walls are erected and knocked down with such precision that Clarke wonders if she's the wrecking ball herself, a tornado in the house she's designing for women with too much money. 

It's obvious what she's doing though. The phone in her pocket itches with Lexa's number so much that she can thinks she'll see burn marks on her pale skin when she changes for bed. It's too much, and not enough all at once, knowing that Lexa is out there and living the life she deserves without the damn woman she's married to. She doesn't know what's going on in her mind because Clarke remembers the day, painfully, that she woke up and realised she wasn't in love with Lexa anymore. 

Octavia was there that day too, holding her friend as she sat staring at a wall and wondering if this is what 'moving on' was supposed to feel like.

She's here now too.

And Clarke loves her for it. 

"Are you upset because she's not pining after you like you thought she might be?" Octavia has never been one for subtlety but she's laced Clarke with enough tequila that her mouth is loose and her heart is light and her words are truthful. "Or are you upset because your epic love story ending is far less climatic than you thought?"

Clarke scoffs but then tastes the aftermath of tequila and scrunches her face up. "No, no. Our story has been over for a long time. And I'm not sure if you remember but it was pretty dramatic when it happened," she slurs out and her voice gets quieter as one word rolls into the next but she doesn't forget the topic of conversation. "And I'm not upset. I'm happy for her, honestly. It's just..."

"Life goes on," her friend hums and Clarke's eyes widen like she's just figured it all out, right there in that bar, with three words. "And it goes on without you right?"

"She was the most important person in my life and now we know nothing about each other. _We're nothing to each other._  It's just strange," she admits to herself and Octavia finishes off her beer knowingly. The blonde has always been bad with change, especially after her dad dying and the introduction of Marcus Kane, and Octavia laments that this was a long time coming. "How can you go from knowing absolutely everything about one another to looking at someone like you have to try hard to remember their damn surname?" 

Octavia waves her hand for another two beer bottles to be delivered to the table and, thinking quickly, orders two waters too. "C'est la vie," the girl murmurs and Clarke sits back in the booth with a grumpy sigh. "Are you still in love with her?" 

"No," Clarke denies quickly but then her expression changes. "Not  _in_ love. But I love her. I'm always going to love her. I've known her since we were fourteen; we were together for six years. That's never going to go away."

Her friend nods gently but Clarke thinks she doesn't really understand. 

\--

 **Don't Call. Don't Answer.**    
Missed Call.

\--

 **Don't Call. Don't Answer.**    
Missed Call.

\--

 **Lexa Woods.**  
New Message (1)

\--

 **Lexa Woods**  
Missed Call.

 **Lexa Woods.  
** New Message (3)

\--

She's not  _avoiding_ Lexa. She just doesn't think that there's anything to talk about during an uncontested divorce.

\--

She finally gives in later that evening and this time, when her phone begins to vibrate against the wooden table, Clarke answers with a steady hand that completely denies the flutters in her stomach. The last time she was this nervous about answering a call from Lexa she had been at a party with Octavia and the music was too loud and she'd told her girlfriend she had a migraine and that's why she wasn't up to Skype that night. 

She wonders when it was that Lexa realised how many little lies Clarke told to just get through the day.

"Ah, so you do know how to use a phone?" Lexa greets with a wry chuckle and it pulls a smile from the nervous girl, despite the avoidance she claims she hasn't been participating in. "I was starting to worry about your advances with technology." 

"Shut up," she says back with ease and then closes her eyes. If she thinks hard enough she can hear students outside of her door and feel a bare strip of sunlight through the cheap windows to her left; but when she opens her eyes she's in her spacious apartment and there are vegetables that she's in the middle of cutting for her dinner and this isn't 2008 anymore. "I've been busy. I haven't had chance to even look at my personal phone all week. It's been hard to even take a call on it."

Thankfully Lexa doesn't say anything about her douchey sentence and she barrels forth instead, like always. "I know this is out of the blue and I'm sure you have much better things to do but I can't stop thinking about us in that coffee shop a few weeks ago," she starts and Clarke feels something tighten inside of her. It doesn't feel like excitement but it doesn't feel anxious either. "I'm not saying it has to be soon either but I'd really like to catch up with you, Clarke." 

And it's the click that does it. That sharp sound in the middle of her name that Lexa only manages to produce when she's angry or nervous. 

"Yeah, I know, Me too," Clarke replies because being honest with Lexa comes second nature to her, despite all the little lies they both told that built the foundation for their inevitable breakup. She doesn't linger on her own thoughts though because she's been over this again and again and again. The only thing to blame for them falling apart was distance and time and their priorities changing dramatically. "I'm not sure when I'll be able to though. Work, you know?"

"Work," Lexa agrees but it sounds like something else. Something more. And Clarke desperately wishes that she doesn't know Lexa's voice as intimately as she does right in that second. "I could come to Arkadia if that's easier for you? I have some time I need to take and I think Anya, my attending, is going to kill me before the hours do. It's only a long weekend but we could make it work, right?"

"Yes. I think so, I'll have to move some things around but it would be nice to see the you back in your hometown now that you're all great and successful," she says. She has to wonder where this confidence has come from and she's sure that all it's going to achieve is her being an utter bundle of nerves on the actual day that Lexa steps foot into the little town where they fell in love. "Are you not completely overwhelmed with everything right now though?"

"Kind of," Lexa admits shyly and Clarke presses the phone tighter to her ear to hear the woman's soft voice. "It's almost my last year so it's hard as hell. I didn't think there were even this many hours in a week but, turns out when you're elbow deep inside Mr. Murphy time kind of flies away from you."

"That sounds dirty," Clarke laughs. "Do you like it when you're deep inside Mr. Murphy?" 

"I mean if I was ten years older and he was twenty years younger," she giggles and the sound makes Clarke sit down, her legs weak. "Pity he isn't my type."

"Blonde?"

"Female."

"Ah."

She wonders if blondes are still Lexa's type anymore or if she just looks for 'female' and ticks it off of her list. It's a thought that she shamefully admits she's thought of more than once, especially when they were at college, and it's ridiculous really. Ridiculous that Polis is literally just over four hours on a train but they had made it out to be the end of the world, made it out to be the end of them. 

"If I have the papers by the time we work out a schedule then I can bring them and have Indra come to Arkadia to file everything as one trip," Lexa says painfully and Clarke is sure there isn't a subject she hates more than that of her impending divorce. "Unless, of course, you want to contest something?" 

Clarke shakes her head and then quickly realises the girl can't see her. "Unless you count all of the shirts you stole from me, no."

"Those shirts were mine to start with."

"Lies," Clarke teases and she enjoys that she can hear the smile in Lexa's voice like she's sure hers can be heard too. "They were all way too big when you put them on."

Lexa hums like she's debating her next words but she's laughing when she says, "Clarke, your boobs were what stretched them out." 

"Damn straight! So they should belong to me," she laughs and she wonders what she was doing before tonight because laughing hasn't felt like this for a long time. Nothing has felt as natural as this in a long time, or as easy, and she knows it's because of the person she's speaking to. Not her ex-girlfriend, but her ex-best friend. "We should have put that in the papers before we sent them out. I want custody of all three Polis University sweatshirts that you took back." 

There's a silence that takes over the line that doesn't feel as gentle or as comfortable as any of the ones preceding it. This one feels dangerously close to touching on something they shouldn't be touching on; not now, not ever. Not if they want to remain friends like it sounds like Lexa wants to and like Clarke's heart genuinely wants to feel.

"Can you really say that I took them when you gave them  _me_ back?" Lexa asks and Clarke takes a second to remember that day. Remember how her vision had blurred and she'd thrown all of Lexa's belongings into a box and told her mom, through a tight throat, to please return them to Lexa's home address before fleeing back to her college dorms. She remembers how it felt to sign for a box of her own belongings only a week later. She remembers begging Octavia to get it out of her sight. "I distinctly remember --"

"Yeah."

Lexa sounds sad again when she hurries to reassure her, "I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

Clarke doesn't say anything to that and they quickly hang up with promises to call and arrange a time and a future weekend that they can meet up. 

She thinks, as she gets into bed later, Lexa never mentioned getting rid of the shirts.

 

**iv**

"I know you said that you have and I'm completely with you on everything that you do, you know that, but have you really thought this through?" 

Lexa, having finally spoken to Anya about having a weekend to herself, manages to arrange time around Clarke's busy schedule too. It's kind of ironic how now that they're older they can do it with much more ease--meet up, talk--but Clarke refuses to keep thinking about  _'what if's'_ when her ex is currently on a train towards Arkadia for the first time in, from Clarke's knowledge anyway, years. She doesn't know where Lexa is even staying and she hadn't offered up her own apartment knowing that even thinking about such things would only end in disaster. 

"It's fine. I already know it's going to be awkward and weird and probably painful," Clarke sighs and her eyes dart to the train times on the board above them to confirm that she's right on time, that she isn't waiting for an invisible train. It feels so much like their past that she has to look down an ensure she's in sensible heels and not the white converse. That's she's successful and happy and that this isn't some unmitigated disaster looming in her future. "But I think we both need this. Lexa hasn't said anything major but she said that she missed me and I miss her. As my friend. We've been over for years, O. If we can't get over it now we're never going to."

Octavia nods and takes a sip of her coffee while simultaneously firing out an email. She's a master at this, Clarke thinks with a fond smile. "Not all exes have to be friends, you know? Like you said it's been years and you've survived this long. Hell, you've flourished."

"Life shouldn't just be about surviving though, surely. It should be about experiences and love and pain," Clarke sighs and Octavia looks away from her phone long enough to let her friend know she has her full attention. It's in her eyes, how they glaze over, Octavia notices. They give her away each time when she's thinking about the past. "Remember when we first met Lexa? She kept getting your brothers name wrong each time they spoke."

"Yeah, I remember," her friend laughs, a little sad in the eyes, and Clarke knows Lexa didn't just break up with her. She broke up with Octavia and Bellamy and Finn too. Even if Finn was a little  _less_ saddened to see her leave. "Bellamy  _hated_ it." 

"She told me, when we were in that weird stage before we started dating, that she did it to see me smile. She said even if I wasn't into girls, or  _into her,_ she just enjoyed making me happy."

Octavia looks at her blankly for a few seconds before, "Gay," leaves her. 

Barely insulted Clarke smiles, looking down at the floor. "I just miss that, you know? She was so important to me, to all of us. And I get college made it difficult for all of us but you lost her too," Clarke sees how Octavia's eyes flick away for a few seconds, acting brave. It's what the girl was best at; second to making an entire crowd of men buy her drinks. "I want that back. Maybe not the romance but that connection. We were best friends, O. All of us. I think we forget that sometimes because my heart was broken and Lexa wasn't here for anyone to notice so we focused on me. My heartache. She was in Polis all alone and --"

"Okay," Octavia interrupts and she steps closer, her hand quickly moving to put her phone in her pocket and she brings it up once it's free to rest on Clarke's bicep. "All you had to say was that you've thought it through."

"Fuck off."

\--

It's weird.

Lexa is nervously rubbing her thighs and looking around and Clarke swallows thickly before, "I'm not the only one feeling this awkward, right?"

_Oh thank God._

"No," Clarke sighs out a laugh and Lexa dips her head prettily, a strand of hair falling from behind her ear and whispering against the swell of her cheek as she looks away from the girl next to her. "I didn't think it'd feel like this to be honest. It didn't feel this awkward in Polis." 

"I suppose Polis doesn't hold as many memories for us as Arkadia does."

She's right. They're sat in the park once Octavia left them with the promise to meet them for a later evening dinner and, without even having to turn her head, Clarke can count three vivid memories from this bench alone.

The time Lexa drank too much at Finn Collins' party--(later she'd admit it was because she saw Finn kiss Clarke in the kitchen)--and they both collapsed onto a park bench, weighted down with giggles and alcohol and unspoken feelings.

The time Clarke convinced herself she was going to be a cheerleader in sophomore year and Lexa, lovely Lexa, had promised to help her train. They'd wandered to the park at six a.m to run some drills but by half past they begged Monty to open his dads local diner early and were drinking milkshakes for breakfast. 

The time Clarke was finally able to convince Lexa to ditch and Jake caught them in the park with powdered sugar around their mouth from where they'd been sneaking kisses between bites of donuts. 

She laughs to herself and Lexa glances over, the hair still hanging attractively and Clarke is caught for a second trying to work out if her hair is lighter or if it's the sun tricking her. "Thinking about the time when your dad caught us here and we tried to convince him we were rehearsing the kiss scene from Romeo and Juliet? And then he told us he knew we were studying Macbeth." 

"No," she flushes with her lie but Lexa lets it go easily, only a quirk of her eyebrow telling Clarke how little she believes her. "Remembering the time you threw up in a garbage bin because you thought mixing beer and liquor at Finn's party was the right thing to do." 

"Wow, way to remember all the bad things about me. I'll have you know I can handle my alcohol like a pro now, even if you're pretending me falling over a trashcan and into a bus is the epitome of my high school party life, " Lexa drawls out but her eyes are smiling and she knows this is going to take work, she's not stupid, but Clarke is willing as long as she knows the eventually she'll have a semblance of her old life back.

When they leave the park it's a little easier. It's not perfect, it's not even close to being fixed, but it's something.

\--

"So you did it then, Lex? Became a surgeon," Finn asks and Clarke smiles at how nice he's being. In the past Finn and Lexa famously clashed on several topics, especially if they were political. Finn, ever the pacifist, tended to argue with Lexa over the way the treatment of criminals was often unjust and Lexa would fire back figures and statistics and it usually left Bellamy, Octavia and Clarke watching like it was a tennis match. But they're older now, Clarke thinks. They're better. When Lexa nods politely, her mouth full with some vegetarian option on the menu that Clarke would never have ordered for her in the past, Finn grins at her. "That's awesome. You were always Abby's favourite when you said that you were going into medicine." 

It should have been awkward but the group laughs softly, Clarke rolling her eyes. "Alright, alright. Mom is proud of me, okay? Maybe. She doesn't understand much if she can't fix it with a scalpel." 

"I'm sure you could take some wallpaper down with a scalpel," Lexa teases and it's not mean. She can see in the girls eyes that the brunette is proud of her for following her dreams of design, proud of her for succeeding. "I'll vouch for you if you'd like."

"No need," Octavia throws in with a wide grin. "Once Abby and my mom saw us featured in  _Elle Decor_  they freaked. Pretty much on their good sides for the rest of our lives -- or at least until we're thirty." 

Lexa smiles softly and Clarke looks at her, taking her in under the dim restaurant lighting and she warms inside to see just how  _proud_ Lexa looks of her. Of all of them. And it hurts to know the breakup meant that she never had the chance to celebrate their successes like the rest of them did. She clearly made a life for herself in Polis, but she was alone. Her successes being celebrated with others. With people she didn't share her dreams with growing up. 

"I saw that," she says softly and even Finn's ravenous eating next to them slows at the admission. Lexa looks at her with tender eyes for a touch too long before diverting to Octavia, her safer option. "It was a nice article. I wanted to say congratulations to you both when it was published but, well --" 

The silence spreads across the table and Clarke finds she can't look away. Lexa looks torn; almost proud of herself for admitting she followed their career--(possibly)--and guilty for bringing the mood down. In the back of her mind she knows that Octavia is thanking her, shrugging off their first success like it wasn't something they both sobbed in their office over, and she looks down at her pasta just as Lexa turns her gaze back to her.

Finn, her favourite Finn, comes forth once more to help. "So, hey, tell us about your mentor. I kind of remember you telling us she was scary as hell when you first started with her."

\--

Lexa goes straight back to her hotel when the meal is over and nobody really questions it. It's emotionally draining for Clarke and Lexa but she knows it's probably weird for their close friends too; sharing a table with a girl they once knew and now have to learn all over again. But, she reminds herself, Lexa wants this too. She wants the connection back and they're mature enough to deal with it now. Even if rebuilding their past comes in a nicely wrapped divorce package. 

She isn't surprised when her phone lights up with a notification. 

(Desperately she tries to forget that after every date, every night they spent together, Lexa would text her. Little things usually; things she enjoyed about the date, things she missed about Clarke now they weren't together. She remembers how her leather wearing, eye line perfecting, bad ass girlfriend who obsessed over crime documentaries would become an utter sap after one kiss with Clarke Griffin.)

(She remembers the texts.)

(How could she forget? She read them like a novel each night after they broke up.)

 **Lexa** **Woods:**  
Thanks for such a nice evening, Clarke. It was  
wonderful. I really have missed you all. 

 **Clarke Griffin:**  
I would say you're welcome but I  
had such a good time too.

 **Clarke Griffin:  
** I've missed you. We all did.

Lexa doesn't reply for a long time and Clarke wonders if she's done something wrong or if she's said something that she probably should have kept to herself. She rereads the messages and hopes that the 'I've missed you' doesn't sound clingy or desperate; because it's just the truth. Lexa said she missed her when they were on the phone and while it isn't quite a panic that she feels in her chest, it's something. 

\--

When they meet the next day Clarke doesn't mention anything about the text and neither does Lexa so they drop it and decide to go ahead with their plans. At the meal Lexa mentioned that she missed the town and Clarke forges ahead and they walk slowly around their old haunts, occasionally reminicing but ensuring to stay away from topics that involved just the two of them. It's inevitable, she's sure, but right now things feel nice and comfortable and she can deal when it's like this. When it's memories of when Bellamy spiraled a ball too hard and it hit Octavia in the nose or when Finn had tried to ask Echo to the dance just to be told no by the girls boyfriend. 

But, as she thought, it was inevitable. 

"Does Mrs. Tsing still grow those roses that I used to pick for you?" Lexa asks quietly as they walk down the quiet street towards Lexa's old house. It's been sold since; a family moving in who Clarke wouldn't recognise even if she saw them but Lexa had wanted to see it again and Clarke obliged, happy to do as the woman wished. "Those were always so pretty."

Clarke starts for a second, not even sure if Mrs. Tsing still lives in the area, and she feels guilty that she's forgotten so much about the town she still lives in. She's so consumed with work that everything else has taken a backseat and Lexa laughs gently at her as she takes her time to answer. "See I always assumed you picked those for me," she says instead of actually replying and she ignores how young she sounds, how flirty. "Now the truth comes out; you're a secret flower lover, Lexa Woods."

"Please," Lexa snorts and Clarke finds herself endeared a little. She wonders if she does anything that makes Lexa feel like that too anymore; she knows she shouldn't care really but sometimes it's nice to know the little things she did were noticed. "You were, and continue to be, the only girl I ever picked flowers for. Just because I don't like them personally doesn't mean I can't appreciate how nice they looked." 

"So no other girl has managed to get the Woods Charm that I received then? Flowers and music and romance," she smirks and they turn, like muscle memory, towards the large houses to one that once housed a young and excited Lexa. "I'd feel bad but you know my stance on winning."

Lexa nudges her lightly, shoulder to shoulder, and smirks. "There's no such thing as second place," she recites from memory, both of them remembering the little pep talk they'd give one another before entering an exam or a competition. "But no. Working forty hour shifts kind of impedes on the whole, you know, dating life. The only girls I speak to are Raven and Anya and they're dating each other."

_Oh._

Oh.

"I remember the shift hours," Clarke says and she doesn't mean for it to come out as irritated as it does. She knows there's lingering annoyance at how they broke up; young women with the need to succeed and everything else falling by the wayside. That's the truth. They had 'new goals', 'new priorities', and they'd had a good run but now it was time for 'new experiences.' She looks at Lexa softly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes you did," Lexa clucks but she mostly sounds resigned rather than angry. They slow their gait as they take in the familiar surroundings. "You know I never wanted that to happen to us, right? Forty hour weeks stopping me from bringing you flowers. I didn't want to be that person."

"Don't, okay? It's fine," the words sound like they hurt coming out and Clarke moves so that she's walking in front of Lexa. It makes it easier to mask anything that she might end up feeling or pushing back because Lexa has always been able to read her really well and that's not what she needs in the middle of a suburb before they've even had lunch. "It was three years ago and it's okay now. I don't need you to say sorry."

"I'm not saying sorry," Lexa snaps and that hurts. It hurts something deep inside of Clarke but she pushes it down because that's easier and Lexa is stepping up behind her. "I'm not sorry for focusing on my career, Clarke. We both needed to do that and you know that by doing that it was the best thing for us. You know that. Breaking up helped us reach our goals."

"And what were they?"

"Success," Lexa tries and Clarke isn't even looking at her but she can feel the weak little shrug she gives. "We wanted to be successful."

At that, Clarke snaps, "I wanted you. Only you." Finally she turns around and the woman in front of her is everything she remembers and nothing that she knows at the same time. She's still sharp angles and soft eyes but she holds herself confidently, she doesn't bend to the snap of Clarke's voice, doesn't run to comfort her like she once would. "I didn't want anything else if it didn't have you and you know that.  _Knew,_ " she corrects quickly. "You knew that." 

Lexa looks down and it's almost like an apology. It's as close to one as she's ever going to get.

"I don't want to talk about this," she continues and it takes Lexa a second before she looks up, eyes confused. "I've done so well without you, okay? And you've done well without me. I know I want you back in my life but I don't want to talk about things we can't change or that are going to hurt us. It took nearly a year to get over you and I've been doing fine so we don't have to do this."

Clarke watches and it looks, for a few moments, like Lexa is going to agree but then her jaw sets and her eyes narrow and Clarke knows she's in for an argument they've waited three years to have. "No, we need to do this," she throws back and she sounds upset and angry and confused all at the same time. "I'm sorry I've turned you into this person, Clarke, I'm sorry I did this. But we're both to blame. We were both there for the break up and I have questions that I need answering too. Being your friend and knowing I still don't understand what happened between us is too hard. We deserve this."

"You weren't exactly rushing to seek answers before the whole divorce thing became apparent." 

 _That_ seems to be the right (or wrong) thing to say. It opens something in Lexa that Clarke wasn't expecting to see and she freezes as the girl gasps lightly. She tilts her head back and Clarke can only watch as she closes her eyes, clearly willing something in her mind, and she hears the murmur of, "Fucking divorce," before Lexa focuses her gaze back on her. Clarke's too in shock at hearing Lexa actually  _curse_ again that it takes a moment to realise that the girl is desperately trying to make eye contact. "I wanted to call you. I did. Anya and Raven, they took my phone from me too many times to count. If I hadn't been writing my thesis I think they'd have taken my laptop too. You're acting like you're the only one who had to get over something but I did too."

She can't believe they're doing this on the street. Where people can see. But, she thinks, they've never done anything normal before. 

"You left me," she snaps but it doesn't sound half as angry as she is and she finally feels something lift. _That_ was what she was holding onto. The resentment that it was  _Lexa_ who left. "You left me, okay? I didn't give up. You were always so busy doing things for everyone else that you forgot about my needs."

"Trains run both ways, Clarke."

She scoffs, "Right. Like you would have been there to greet me." 

The conversation is rapidly dissolving into something that she doesn't want and Clarke pulls back, folding her arms in front of herself, and she tries to not look as distressed as she is. She'd wanted this day to go well--she still wants it to go well, but there is clearly a line that they both need to be ready to cross and throwing blame around isn't getting them anywhere. She knows that she's to blame too; she pulled away from Lexa when she started getting scared about their future but Lexa hadn't helped by throwing herself into her studies. It's easier though, she knows, it's easier to blame Lexa for breaking her heart because then she doesn't have to face the knowledge that she broke Lexa's took.

"This is something we need to talk about," Lexa insists but her voice is softer and her jaw unclenches in front of Clarke's eyes. She's still a vision to the other girl and she has to wonder if she knows just how pretty she really is. "I know it hurts, okay? I'm living it too. And I know I've hurt you because you haven't said my name once since we've started talking again."

Clarke sighs, "I don't know if we can."

"We can," the other woman reassures and she says it so passionately that Clarke can do nothing but believe her. "We have to. But not here. Not on the street."

Rubbing the back of her neck she agrees.

**v.**

Besides a few messages the two don't talk completely for another month. After their fight on Lexa's old street, the brunette feigned an emergency back in Polis and she was out of the town before anyone could really react. Octavia had glared at her but she knew why the brunette had done it; she was giving Clarke the space she needed to clear her head before they spoke again. Both passionate individuals, fights weren't rare between them and they should have known it would all boil over eventually. Clarke with her temper, Lexa with her refusal to ever give anything away. It was inevitable the pair would finally explode when their feelings were involved. 

Her cell rings and Clarke answers, distracted by color swatches. "Griffin-Blake Designs," she chirps into the phone and it's amazing how happy her voice sounds when her brow is furrowed and there are four people in her office waiting for a decision over colours and materials and expenditure. 

"I thought you had a work phone," invades her senses and Clarke drops the color palette for favor of running a hand through her hair. She knows that Lexa is well aware of her little white lies and she prays she overlooks this one. "Shit, did I catch you at a bad time?"

Clarke taps her finger against a grey-navy color, scribbles on  _'library wall'_ to the woman standing to her left. She scuttles off and Clarke waves her hand to the other people in the room, silently flicking them off as they roll their eyes and grumble as they close the door behind them, "No, it's okay," she says quietly and it takes her a minute to admit she's missed this voice. "Are you okay?" 

"Yes, fine. I've just got home after a ten hour surgery so, you know, deciding if I'm hungry or if I want to sleep for ten more hours," she's smiling, Clarke can hear it, and she glances at her clock in sympathy. It's barely ten in the morning and Lexa is only just finishing. "I think I need a drink actually."

"That bad?"

Lexa hums and Clarke can swear she can hear the other girl brewing coffee, moving around a kitchen and shuffling her feet. She can see it. "The divorce papers came," she says to a suddenly mute Clarke. "This morning. I've not read all the way through them but Indra and your lawyer seem to have everything in hand." 

Divorce.

They were getting a divorce.

She'd forgotten about that.2

"Oh," she chokes out, glad for the empty room. Her chest hurts a little and she stands up to walk to the large windows of her office to open one, gulping in the cool air. "That was fast."

"It's been almost three months. And then we'll still have to wait to be seen by a judge but --" Lexa trails off and that's all it takes for Clarke to bite into her lower lip. Her voice cracks when she speaks again and, not for the first time, Clarke remember this is probably confusing and painful for her too. "I can sign them today and we can just deal with the legalities when they come. But we'll have mostly done our part." 

"Yeah." 

Lexa sighs. "Have you signed yours?" 

_No._

"They're at Wells' office," she evades and her soft spoken words only mean that she can hear Lexa's shaky inhale even clearer. Cars gleam on the street below, people moving on with their own lives, finding love, finding careers, uncaring that thirteen floors up there's a woman with tears in her eyes and her past on the phone. "You know when I imagined our futures I didn't quite envisage this." 

"I know," Lexa's laugh sounds wet, soggy with tears. "I mean I kind of did."

"You imagined us getting a divorce?"

"No," she's adamant in that. Clarke is sure it's the lack of sleep that's making Lexa so honest but she's living on it; breathing it in. She told Lexa she didn't want to speak about it all those weeks ago but now it's all she can think about, now it's everything she wants to know. She _has_ to know what happened to them when it could have been so easy. "No. But I knew I'd never have a girl like you again. A girl like me can't love someone as special as you the way they should be loved."

This time it's Clarke's turn to be serious. "You loved me just right."

"Yeah? So when did that stop being enough?"

_Oh, Lexa._

"Love was never our problem," she says quietly, her blue eyes focused on the people below. It was easier than focusing on the way Lexa's breaths begin to grow heavy; with tears or fatigue she doesn't know but it hurts all the same. Knowing she's sad. Knowing she's overworked. "Understanding how to handle it? That was our problem." 

Clarke hears Lexa swallow roughly and she waits patiently for the other girl. "We're never going to be friends again, are we? After this I mean," she asks, voice shaking, and Clarke has never been stabbed before but she sure feels the blood drain from her body now. She's thankful for this Lexa; sleep-deprived and honest, but she kills her too. "Too much has changed hasn't it?"

"I don't know," she replies truthfully, her eyes closing tightly as she lets her forehead touch the windowpane. "I want you in my life still. We all do; Octavia, Bellamy. Even Finn."

There's a sleepy chuckle from Lexa's end and a sarcastic repetition of Finn's name. "It was harder than I thought seeing you again," she admits which only causes Clarke to nod because  _fuck_ it was hard. "Maybe we can make it work. Once it's all over. Maybe I can be happy again, right?"

_All over._

_God, once it's all over._

"Maybe," Clarke tries. "Go to sleep, Lexa. You sound like you need it." 

"You said my name," she hums happily. If a tear falls from Clarke's end at how soft she sounds, how content, _how happy,_ she ignores it. "I've missed my name."

"Go to sleep." 

\--

Of all the things she's done, booking a last minute train ticket to Polis on the thought Lexa might be alone and exhausted and _crying_ might be the stupidest. She's done it before, at eighteen and nineteen and twenty, but that was when Lexa was in love with her and they had spare time. Now it's less romantic and more pathetic because all she has with her is a small carry-on bag and nowhere to sleep that night. 

She's sure she'll find a hotel in Polis, she knows she will, but she needs to see Lexa first. 

"I'm going to repeat this to you, just so you don't think I'm not on your side, but what if this all backfires and you need rescuing? Both owners can't leave the business on the off-chance that a pretty girl might be sad," Octavia is saying down the phone and Clarke jostles her way through the cab, trying to find her seat number while attempting to not run over people behind her. "Clarke, we have a meeting  _tomorrow afternoon._ "

She sighs, sitting down. "I know, I know. I'll be back for it," she promises and she ignores the look she gets for her flustered appearance. "You didn't hear her, O. She was so sure that this was it."

"It is it! You're getting divorced, Griff. This isn't something you come back from," her friend says gently but there's a firm tone to her voice that demands Clarke listens to her. "I love you and I miss Lex too, I swear. But you two had something pretty spectacular and it broke down, that doesn't mean you've fallen out of love or whatever. It just means it fell apart. I don't want you going there thinking it's going to be easy just because you've turn up to make her feel better. She might not want to see you when she's in this frame of mind." 

"Then she can tell me to leave," she clips out, angry and upset. "I didn't chase her last time. I didn't even ask her to stay. She's my friend before anything else and I'd do the same for you or Lincoln."

Octavia goes quiet for a long moment before, "I can't believe you made me do this. She lives in Apartment 14C on Hope Drive. I'll send you the information so you can just get a cab there, alright? And don't tell her I helped. It feels creepy enough as it is."

"I love you, Blake. Like a lot."

"I know. Now go, I'll cover here and don't come to the meeting tomorrow. But you owe me a long ass holiday, Griffin. Like seriously long."

\--

Lexa answers the door and she looks beautiful.

"Clarke? What are you..?" She doesn't finish her sentence as Clarke barrels the girl back through her door and into her apartment. It's fairly empty from what she can see but her main focus is the girl in front of her, tired and slim and wonderful. "Why are you here?" 

"We can be friends," Clarke blurts out. She's sure she's blushing and Lexa looks at her with a wince, like Clarke's voice is too loud and like she can't quite muster the energy to open her eyes up completely. "We can and we will. And you're so tired right now so you're going to go back to bed but we're going to talk and get everything out in the open because my chest is tired of being heavy and I don't want to keep hiding in my work pretending like I don't miss you."

Lexa nods, still confused and still unaware of the little tufts of hair sticking up behind her ears. "Okay, we're friends," she says easily before shuffling back to her bedroom. It's cute because she has pajama pants on and her work scrub top, her feet are dragging on the ground. This woman saves lives, Clarke laughs, but she can't take her damn shirt off. It's adorable. "I'm glad we're friends," is all she says next and Clarke hears the door shut soundly before she looks around.

Shit.

Now what?

**final.**

She's not sure what she's expecting but Lexa finally emerges from her room around one in the morning. There's a little fumbling from the doors behind her but Clarke listens as she freshens up in the shower, as some soft song plays from her phone, and she stands up to go to Lexa's little kitchen and she sets about making some coffee and some slices of toast. All she remembers from college is how Lexa would devour toast after a shift, bleary-eyed and smiling through Skype, and she hopes that hasn't changed.

She hopes a lot of things haven't changed.

"You're here," Lexa drawls from behind her and Clarke turns quickly to see the girl looking as young as the day they broke up. Her hair is wet, bunched against a navy Polis hoody and she's wearing sweatpants that's she's fairly certain Lexa won from Bellamy in a rather vicious round of poker. It's familiar. It feels right. It feels like everything didn't when she was with Niylah. "I thought I was dreaming or something. You're here."

Clarke nods and hands Lexa the warm drink and plate of toast before ushering her to the couch. In the back of her mind she recalls how Lexa used to hate eating anywhere but the table but she's too sleep-warm and confused that she lets the blonde push her wherever she wants, hands guiding her to sit down before she gets her own cup of coffee. "You sounded upset," she explains, well aware of how weak it sounds. Lexa had sounded plenty upset in the past and Clarke hadn't hopped on a train then. 

"We're getting divorced," is all Lexa replies. It's all she needs to say. "It's pathetic I know. We've been over for years, I haven't even seen you in years, but this feels different even though it shouldn't. I'm not even sure where my mind is and I am sorry if I worried you or anything, I know how busy you are." 

"Don't be sorry," Clarke eases before adjusting herself on the couch. "I know what you're feeling. It's why I'm here." 

Lexa smiles but it's grim. Instead of saying anything she takes a bite of her toast and lets herself be comforted by the warmth of her coffee and the satisfaction of a full belly. Clarke waits patiently, cup between her fingers and words on her tongue that she doesn't quite know how to express. She's glad that she isn't the only one conflicted over this. 

"I can't believe I'm divorcing you," Lexa chuckles but she doesn't sound happy and Clarke looks up in time to see the shine in her eyes. "Like, I can't believe I wasted time with Anya and Raven and medical school instead of being married to you. We were happy. I could have made you happy and instead I focused on making sure I did what everyone else wanted me to do because I just assumed you'd be there."

"I'm here now." 

Lexa rolls her eyes and it causes a tear to fall, one she swiftly wipes away and hides. "Yeah, you are," she tries to smile but it barely reaches her cheeks. "I lied. I don't regret choosing my career but I regret leaving you the way that I did. I really do." 

"I know. You don't have to explain. I should have given you a reason to stay and I didn't," Clarke gasps, a heavy feeling in her throat. She doesn't want to get upset because that's not what this is about but there's something about crying, something about letting it go, that feels cathartic. "But Octavia and I were just starting up the business and you were so busy and, I don't know, I thought it would be for the best too."

"Was it?"

Clarke shrugs. "For my business? Yes," she admits and she's glad when Lexa smiles in understanding. They understand each other well enough that it isn't meant malicious. "For me? No. I got over you but I've missed you everyday." 

Taking in a deep breath, Lexa asks, "I would have made you happy right? Just so I can get the 'What if's' to leave my mind." 

"Without a doubt."

 

**\--**

There's a press of feet against her thigh and a warm feeling in her stomach from where they'd switched from tea to coffee, and Clarke can't think of a time she's felt so relaxed.

"Remember when Octavia went through her denim phase? God," Lexa laughs, complete immersed in the stories of their happier times. It had taken a while, a few hours, but they'd managed to move past the initial sadness at knowing their relationship was over. It had been over for years, Clarke knows that, but there was something about the legalities that changed it. There was something more solid about the divorce that neither could name. "Did you ever tell her she looked worse than Britney in denim?"

"No," Clarke scoffs and it only causes Lexa to smile more. She likes this. She likes that they have these memories to cushion the blow of talking about their break up. "Do you really think Octavia ever think she looks bad? She'd have thrown it right back at me." 

"I miss her, you know? I mean Bellamy and Finn I can live with or without, but I miss Octavia," she says softly, her eyes gleaming. "What is Bellamy up to these days?"

"Army."

Lexa smiles at that again and nods, knowing it makes sense. "I hope he's okay," she says sincerely and Clarke smirks at her before pulling out her phone and offering it to Lexa once she's opened up a recent picture of Bellamy and his new fiance showing off their rings. "Damn, I've missed a lot." 

"You'll have time to catch up," the blonde insists softly, reaching down to squeeze at the ankle closet to her. "Or just ask Octavia anything. She loves speaking about herself."

"Sounds like Raven," Lexa smirks before realising that Clarke doesn't really know who she is. "She's an engineer at the hospital. Keeps the machines up and running. She started working there about a year after we broke up but I kind of wish you were around to meet her, you and Octavia. You'd both like her; she's more like the both of you than me."

"What, fun?"

"Loud."

Clarke rolls her eyes and she almost doesn't ask before she decides to just go for it. Why waste more time? "Did you and Raven...I mean, were you ever a thing?" She doesn't regret asking but there's a pause that makes her nervous and Lexa looks down at her fingers the same way she used to when she was balancing out how to tell Clarke something they both knew she wouldn't like. 

"For a little while," she admits and there. It's done, Clarke thinks. "It fizzled out after a few months. We didn't work and then she met Anya which did work. Really well actually." 

"I'm glad you had someone," Clarke says and she tries to not sound jealous because she's not. How can she be? She had her own string of lovers since the break up and it wasn't like she knew Lexa would remain single. She's beautiful. "Are you still close?"

Lexa nods easily, happy to be on a topic she doesn't have to live in the past with. "She's one of my best friends. Her and Anya," she answers and it makes Clarke smile that she wasn't as alone after the breakup as her guilty mind told her she might be. "You might actually meet them, I don't know. Anya is working a double but her and Raven try and have breakfast together before she starts work." 

"You live with Anya?" Lexa nods, thumb pointing to a room down the corridor that Clarke can't quite see.

"Not all of us have graduated yet. I'm still a poor student."

"Only for another year," Clarke encourages with a proud voice. "And then you'll be working at Polis Gen, right?" 

That was the plan. That was always the plan. Except Clarke was going to move once she was established in her career and they'd live happily ever after; that was the goal. "Yeah, I have to apply for a position but I've worked by ass off there for five years. I deserve it," Lexa brags and it swells something in Clarke's chest.

"I'm proud of you," she says genuinely. "And we're coming to your graduation."

Lexa laughs. "It's nothing like you think it's going to be," the surgeon assures softly but Clarke can see she's flattered. "We'll have a party. My graduation. The divorce. It'll be a fresh start."

 _Shit._  

That hurt.

"Wait, Clarke. I didn't --"

"It's fine."

"No. It's not. I know it's not," Lexa urges and she sounds so desperate that Clarke turns to look at her with wide eyes. "It's not. I don't even want to  _think_ about our divorce let alone celebrate it, okay? I promise." 

Closing her eyes, Clarke leans into the girl next to her and she can hear the shuffle of the cushions as Lexa moves to wrap her arms around her. It's been so long. Feeling this? It's been too long. Clarke can't even think of a time before that last argument that Lexa even held her like this as she burrows into it, desperate to find comfort. "I can't believe this is what's brought us together again," she huffs, completely aware of the tears building again. "I hate this. Why did we let this happen to us?"

"Too young. Too selfish," Lexa tries and Clarke can tell she isn't trying to place blame. "We both thought our dreams were more important, I don't know. I wish I had the answers to make it easier but I promise I won't hurt you like that again." 

Clarke nods against the soft chest she's laying on, her lip tucked behind her teeth to stop it quivering. "In another life we stayed together, right?" Truthfully she doesn't know why she asks but she remembers teenaged conversations about soulmates and multiverses and Lexa had indulged each and every one, telling her lowly about other lives they've led as Clarke fell asleep. "We were happy?"

"The happiest," Lexa says strongly, believing it herself. "We missed our chance this lifetime but the next go around we have? We'll have it perfected, I'm sure."

\--

She's not sure what time she fell asleep but the open blinds cause the rising sun to reflect straight onto her face and she sit up, annoyed and confused by her surroundings. It's Lexa's apartment and the girl is nowhere in sight but their cups have been washed and there's a blanket hanging from her shoulders that must have been placed there when she finally dozed off. She's close to worrying when the door finally opens and Lexa walks in, distracted and wonderfully flushed from the morning air. 

"Good morning," Clarke nods, wiping the sleep from her eyes but her stomach drops when she notices the envelope in Lexa's hands. One that looks exactly like the one in Wells' office back home. "Is that..?" 

Lexa just nods, placing it on the table. "I've signed it," she whispers but she sounds so young and so sad that Clarke tenses up completely. "I can send it off once you've signed your name too, it's just at the end and I didn't even realise we both have to sign it. I'll come back to Arkadia next week sometime and finish off yours but if you could take mine so they're together then I think it might be easier."

She sounds so detached, so reminiscent of the young Lexa who left her, that Clarke feels twenty-two again and scared to her stomach.

"Oh, okay," she says, dizzy and confused. They lulled themselves into a false sense of security the night before; full of memories and the feeling of being next to each other. But the divorce was still happening and lawyers were waiting and the real world didn't stop just because Clarke's head did. "Uh sure, I can do that." 

"Are you okay?"

Clarke shakes her head and repeats Lexa's words from the night before. "We're getting divorced," she says and she lets herself feel sad.

\--

By lunch she's on the train, unable to stand in Lexa's apartment much longer, and the brunette seems to completely understand. She pretends that she has things planned but Clarke knows it's a lie, knows all the girl was planning on doing was studying a little and laying in her bed until she could feel nothing but sheets and dreams. 

With shaking fingers Clarke opens the large white envelope in her hands. She knows what it contains; she'd come all the way to Polis to ask for it. There are people surrounding her in the car moving on with their own lives. A man turns his paper, a cough stuck in his throat, and he tilts his head as a headline captures his attention. A young couple smile with one another as their young child fights fruitlessly against sleep, his little head dropping down each time the train clatters over the tracks. 

They don't notice that Clarke's world is suddenly ripping apart at the seams.

They don't notice that it's falling apart because she asked for it. 

They don't notice that she's desperate to fling herself from the moving carriage and run, run, run back to Polis and into those arms she was almost legally apart from. 

\--

She gets off at the next station.

\--

"Fuck the next life," Clarke growls when Lexa opens the door an hour later and Clarke is so angry she barely registers the sweet confusion on Lexa's brow. "I've lived this life without you and I can do it, okay? We've proven that we can live and survive and get by without one another. But where has that gotten us? I'm still in Arkadia and you're still a student. We've moved forward but we're still stuck, Lexa."

If the brunette is following her logic at all then Clarke is willing to give her a prize.

"There's two things I want in life; my career and you. I'm not saying we have to stay married, I'm not even saying we should start dating again, but fate has thrown us back together and if you can look me in the eyes and say you don't believe that then fine. I'll go, but you need to be the one to say it again because I didn't fight for you before so I'm sure as hell going to make my case now." 

Lexa's answer comes in the form of a kiss; sloppy and a little ridiculous, her lips catching Clarke's at the edge and she feels a little teeth. But then Lexa pulls back and she smiles at Clarke just enough for them both to relax, enough for them both to lean in at the same time and just let themselves  _feel._ No hiding. No pretending. No lies. Just them, and for a few seconds it works. 

"You're still in Arkadia," Lexa breathes out, hands on Clarke's hips and the blonde nods. "We couldn't make it work last time. What makes you think it'll work now?" 

Clarke shrugs. "We want it to work," she says simply, unsure if Lexa means romantically or as friends. The kiss suggested the former but they've changed a lot over the years, they've become their own person, but Clarke is willing to try. "Polis has far more connections than Arkadia, basing myself out of the city would be far more financially secure than a small town nobody knows." 

"You'd move to Polis?" Lexa's eyes narrow in guilt. 

"Not for you," Clarke clarifies. She knows it's fast, she knows they've only come back into one anothers lives a few months ago, but she wasn't lying when she said she wants the best of both worlds and she's sure living and working in Polis can help with that. "You're a factor, yes, but I'm good at what I do and it'd make sense for me. If we don't work, that's okay. But I'm telling you now that I want this to be our second chance at... _something._ Whatever that is we can work on. It'll take a while and I'm fine with that if you are, Lexa. You just have to tell me you're willing to fight too."  

"And the divorce?"

"We can still go through with it if that's what we both want," Clarke says softly, her hands moving to cup Lexa's cheeks. "But when I was on that train it felt like it was going to be the last time I ever saw you again and I'm not okay with that. Not when we've been granted this new life, this second chance." 

Lexa smiles and Clarke is sure she's won this round. 

"Okay," she says before taking a step back and holding her hand out like she wasn't just wrapped around the blonde. Clarke frowns at her for a long second before Lexa gestures down and she laughs brightly, grasping the girls fingers. "Hi. My name is Lexa Woods, and you are?" 

"Still completely in awe of how lame you are." 

 


End file.
